When Villains Rise (Market of Monsters #3) - Rebecca Schaeffer Page 0,98

here believed he would survive this.

But all the doctor said was, “We’ll try.”

And then they wheeled the stretcher away, and he was gone.

Thirty-Eight

NITA STARED AFTER KOVIT as though if she watched the white surgery doors long enough, she would develop x-ray vision and be able to see what was happening beyond. A nurse directed her to a short row of chairs and a small table with pop culture magazines on it.

“You can wait here,” the nurse said, her face lined and her eyes soft. “It will be a while, but I promise, the minute I have news, I’ll come tell you. Okay?”

Nita didn’t respond, only sort of hearing what the nurse was saying. The nurse gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and then quietly retreated.

Nita stood there, staring at the wall, hands covered in blood, Kovit’s blood, wondering if she’d just seen him for the last time. The nurse returned at some point with wet wipes, a towel, and a pair of scrubs. Nita took it all in her bloody hands and let the nurse lead her to the bathroom.

The nurse spoke slowly and carefully, as though if she said too many words too fast, Nita would just shatter from the pressure. “You take all the time you need. Wash the blood off. You’ll feel better after you’re clean, I promise.”

Then Nita was left in the bathroom. It was a handicapped one, large, with sparkling clean white tiles and walls. Nita dripped dark blood on the floor as she stumbled in, marring the pristine surfaces. She put the scrubs on a small shelf by the door and wandered over to the sink.

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. She looked dead. It wasn’t just the blood on her face or the waxiness of her skin. It was the expression in her eyes. The expression of someone who has lost everything. The expression of someone broken.

Kovit wasn’t going to make it.

Part of her demanded that she shouldn’t think like that, that he wasn’t dead yet, but she’d seen the doctor’s look, the EMTs’ expressions. She knew the chances were low.

And even on the slight chance he did make it, her mother wouldn’t let it last. Was her mother here at the hospital even now, waiting for a chance to sabotage the surgery? How would she go about it, Nita wondered, thoughts almost clinical. She could cut the power. Or poison Kovit. Even just take his IV out. Swap the blood bags.

Or she could just tell the staff to look at the news. They’d all see he was a zannie, and even though the Dangerous Unnaturals List was suspended now, someone would take matters into their own hands, thinking they were doing the right thing. There was always going to be someone.

A choked sob made its way from Nita’s throat, scraping the skin at the back of her throat with its force, and she crumpled to the floor, blood on her hands staining the towel she’d been given, coloring the pure white with death.

She thought of Kovit, with his beautiful black eyes, the way he smiled just for her. Not his creepy smile, his weaponized grin of violence and fear. No, she thought of the soft one he gave her when she laid her head on his chest, the gentle one that was full of childish wonder. The genuinely sweet one that was all him, none of the darkness seeping in.

She swallowed heavily, a barrage of memories playing through her head of all the different Kovits she knew, all the different faces he wore. She thought of the expression he made when people were cruel to him, internalizing his hurt so that no one could see it. She thought of all the conversations they’d had, how little he felt he truly knew himself, how much he wanted to learn.

She remembered the pure joy on his face when he’d seen Buenos Aires. And she remembered the cracked and broken soul he’d worn on his sleeve after he killed Henry.

She closed her eyes. They’d managed so much together, from escaping and destroying the market where they’d met to evading black market hunters and setting Kovit free of the Family. It seemed so unfair that here, at the end, when they were so close to a fresh start, when the list was crumbling and the future was full of possibility, that it should all end. They’d always had the cards stacked against them. She supposed it was only a matter of